His Little Oddity
by BlueDaisy23
Summary: She was so very odd. He did not understand her. Erik reflects on his daughter.


**Hey phans! This idea popped into my head, and I fell in love with it. I do love daddy!Erik so much. I hope you all enjoy it as much as I did!**

* * *

 **His Little Oddity**

She was so very _odd_.

She cried constantly, needed nutrition at all hours of the day, and soiled herself uncontrollably! He did not need as much sleep as the rest of the human race, but when he did acknowledge his body's need for sleep, she seemed to want him and only him!

She demanded attention every waking moment.

His beloved wife had joked that she took after him in that aspect. He had scowled at her, his terrible face twisting into something uglier, but soon softened at the sight of her beautiful smile and the twinkle in her mischievous brown eyes. He had then huffed exasperatedly and took the small bundle from her arms, keeping her close to his body. He looked down at the cherub in his arms and felt his breath catch as it did each time he observed this little oddity of his. She was absolutely perfect. Her face was as smooth as the finest Chinese silk, and in a rare moment of content, her golden eyes watched him without a sound coming from her little lips. "Papa will always give you the attention you desire and more," he whispered. The babe gave a squeak of joy and clapped her hands and kicked her feet, and Erik believed he had died and gone to heaven in that moment. A warm hand touched his shoulder, and he looked over at his Christine, who had tears in her eyes. "Thank you for her, Christine," he pressed a kiss to her chocolate curls, and she presented him with a watery smile. "I couldn't have done it without you."

* * *

If he thought she was odd as a baby, he was unsure how to label her at the age of ten. He had never seen the way young girls were brought up in Parisian society, but he was positively sure his daughter was not like the other girls her age.

He believed little girls enjoyed tea parties with their toys, dressing up their dolls, and wearing the brightest and prettiest frocks.

His little oddity was so far from that belief that he wondered if there was any semblance of a girl out there.

Estelle was dirty constantly, even more so than her younger brother (do not even get him started on that child; seriously, his children were the most peculiar people he had ever known). Her unruly curls, which were a beautiful ebony color that he assumed would have been what his hair had looked like if he had been normal, had a mind of their own, and her golden eyes had a mischievous glint he had seen many times in his wife's eyes. She needed patched up numerous times a day. One time, she had walked into the parlor of their house, with Gustave running in behind her, and threw both Christine and Erik into a fit of panic at the amount of blood gushing from her elbow.

"Papa, you won't ever guess what I just did!" she had exclaimed, not noticing the terror on her parents' faces. "I jumped down from the tallest tree in our yard after Gustave said I couldn't. I proved him wrong, though!" With that, Erik watched, horrified but slightly amused, as she stuck her tongue out at her little brother. He had stitched her up after that and had given her a stern talking to about the dangers from jumping so high, and his if she ever scared her mother and him like that again, there would be dire consequences for her. The little girl had gulped and nodded meekly before looking at her stitches. "Will it scar?" she asked him curiously.

He had winced then because his perfect little girl would now have an imperfection on her body. He swallowed before answering, "Yes, my dear."

To his upmost surprise, she gave him a grin as bright as the sky. "We'll match!" she squealed before pecking his twisted cheek and running off to find her brother, no doubt to look for more trouble.

He brought his hand up to the spot where her lips had touched and looked in awe at the door through which she had just ran. His beautiful, darling girl surprised him daily. A warm hand slid over his bony shoulder, which had soften over the years from the copious amount of foods Christine shoved down his throat, and turned his head to see his lovely wife standing there with a small smile on her face. "She is happy that we will have matching scars," he told her, the wonder creeping into his ethereal voice.

Christine's smile grew as she pressed a kiss to his forehead, both hands resting on his shoulders. "She worships the ground you walk on, Erik. She wants to be just like her Papa."

"But _why_?"

She shook her head sadly. "Oh, my love, even after all these years together, you still do not see how truly wonderful you are?" she questioned, her sparkling brown eyes full of love for him. _For him_.

Erik felt his mouth dry and the oncoming tears that would ensue if the conversation continued. He did not know what he did to deserve his beautiful wife, odd daughter, and abnormal son, but he knew that he would die a thousand times just to see them look at him as Christine was.

* * *

She acted so very odd when it came to Louis Arnault, who was the stepson to Marguerite Arnault. He still had the habit of calling her Little Meg Giry in his head, even though she was a year older than Christine.

Louis Arnault was at the fine age of twenty-two, four years senior to Estelle. The Arnault family was very esteemed in Paris; François Arnault, Louis' father and Marguerite's husband, was from a long line of wealthy barons. His family was much more open-minded than most. Since François was not the heir to the Baron, he was allowed to choose his own wife. His first wife had been from a slightly less wealthy family, but they still had money. Unfortunately, she had passed away in childbirth, so he was left as a single father to a little boy. Two years had passed, and he had attended a ballet at Garnier. The blonde prima ballerina had captured his heart, and it was a whirlwind romance; however, it was still very proper, thanks to Madame Giry. They were married six months after that first show and were still nauseatingly in love.

Seeing as Christine and Meg had remained best friends, Louis had been apart of Estelle's life since the moment Christine had started to show. Erik could remember the boy following Christine, constantly touching her stomach and asking her questions.

He should have known then.

The insufferable child had always been attached to his odd little girl. He had watched when they were younger, Louis would pick at her nonstop, even pushing her down different times, and just as Erik was about to step in and ruin the boy's life for tormenting his girl, Estelle stood up, brushed the dirt off her green dress (which had surprised Erik), and reared back her fist and connected it with the boy's cheek. His jaw had dropped, Louis ran off crying, and Estelle crossed her arms, beaming with pride.

She had turned then and caught sight of him. Her smile grew as she ran over to him. "Papa, did you see what I did?" she asked excitedly, gripping his forearm. She dropped her smile into a frown. "Wait, why do you have your mask and wig on?" Her nose crinkled in distaste, and she reached up to remove. His pale hand gripped her wrist gently and placed it back down to her side.

"Estelle, why did you hit that boy?"

She frowned at the mask for another moment before she allowed another smirk to bloom on her beautiful face, her golden eyes taking on the mischievous glint. "He wouldn't leave me alone, so I had to show him I wouldn't be taken lightly."

He stared at the girl for a moment. She was so _odd_. But he couldn't stop the pride swelling up in his chest, and a small smile started to grow on his own face. "You are quite the character, darling," he stated, and she laughed her beautiful laugh.

"ESTELLE SERAPHINA DESTLER! You come here right now! Erik, wipe that smile from your face! We do not encourage violence in this household!" his beloved wife shouted from the backdoor of their house, her hands on her hips as she glared angrily at her daughter and husband. Louis was holding a pack of ice to his cheek as he watched his daughter march up to the house, a look of frightened admiration in his eyes.

Erik sighed as he thought of that day a few years ago. That was when the boy's infatuation had started. Damn girl for being so oddly captivating.

"Papa, why are you upset?" A sweet voice broke his thoughts, and he looked down to see his and Christine's youngest child, Adalie. He and Christine had tried for years after Gustave, but Christine never conceived so they believed their family was meant to be only four. Then, three years ago, Christine had fainted at rehearsals, and he had rushed a doctor to the Garnier. He had been forced outside of her dressing room, pacing back and forth for moments that stretched for eons, before the doctor came out and shook his hand, a smile on the old man's face as he answered none of Erik's questions. Aggravated, he had rushed into the room where his wife, who had a serene smile on her face, was talking to her stomach. He had been very confused and slightly worried that she had finally gone mad from the time she had spent with him, but she relayed the news to him and was so excited that he didn't even think to worry about the baby. He had kissed her deliriously, and a new adventure began as they became parents once again.

He smiled softly and pulled his young daughter into his lap. She was a replica of Christine, with her curly brown hair and big brown eyes, and he loved her so very much. She was so different from his other two children. So sweet and innocent, she was content to sit and read with her Mama, or lean against her Papa as he played the piano. She was the type of girl he had first imagined little girls to be. To say she was Estelle's complete opposite would be an understatement.

Estelle...

He sighed again and dropped a kiss into his daughter's hair, her soft curls brushing against his unmasked face. "Make Papa a promise, little bird; never leave Mama or I for a silly boy," he murmured.

Adalie's face twisted into one of disgust as she turned to face her father. "Boys are dirty, Papa. I stay with you and Mama forever," she insisted, throwing her arms around Erik's neck. He clutched her to him, knowing she would break this promise and leave him far sooner than he was ready for.

"Oh, Papa, don't make her promise things that will inevitably break your heart in the future." His eldest child walked into the room, and he lost his breath as he took her in. Her unruly midnight curls were tamed and pinned up into an elegant updo. Her heart-shaped face was adorned with slight makeup. Kohl lined her golden eyes, making the brown flecks stand out. Her thin lips were painted with a pink tint, and a dab of rogue was on her high cheekbones. Her tall, slender frame was accentuated in the A-line lace dresses that brushed the floor. After many years of denying it, not wanting to taint her image or even cause a small bubble of envy within him, he agreed that his daughter was the feminine version of what he should look like. The only physical features of Christine in Estelle were her curls and heart-shaped face; besides that, she was all Erik.

His heart clenched as he thought of what he had to do today.

"Stelle!" Adalie screeched and clambered off his lap, running to hug her sister's legs.

She laughed her melodious laugh. "Hello, Ada. Is my flower girl ready for big debut?" she questioned, and Erik watched as the two conversed back and forth. He couldn't believe that tonight he would return home with only two children instead of three. It was an odd feeling.

Christine suddenly burst through the door, and his heart skipped a beat like it had for the last twenty years every time he was near her. The years had been excellent to her. She had few wrinkles, mainly just laugh lines that broadcasted her happiness for the last twenty or so years. She fretted over the few strands of gray hair she had, but he had repeatedly assured her that no one could see it through the amount of hair she had. Only he could see it when her hair was down, and she had a breakdown due to that. He had laughed since it astounded him that she, his perfect Christine, was worried that _he_ would think poorly of her appearance. He had to sleep on the couch that night.

"Estelle, it's time, dear! Oh, Louis looks so handsome out there! I can't wait for you to see him, and he you. You both are going to cry, I can just feel it! I mean, so will I! I can't believe my baby's getting married!" Christine came up and kissed Estelle on both cheeks.

Estelle giggled. "You better believe it, Mama, because it's going to happen in about ten minutes or so."

Erik blanched. Ten minutes! His mind reverted back to his calculating ways of how to get away with murder without a glance in his direction. He ached to feel the catgut in his palm and watch as he slowly sucked the life out of that pompous Louis Arnault. He could almost taste the joy he would feel from it.

However, he looked at his girls and knew he couldn't do it. Especially to Estelle since she loved that insufferable boy, claiming to love him as much as he loved Christine. He had scoffed when she had told him that. He could never come up with a reason why, except for the fact that she was so strikingly _odd_. So Erik did the only thing he could in that moment.

He pouted.

"You know, there is something gratifying about watching a dignified man pout like a two year old," his daughter quipped at him. He noticed Christine and Adalie had left the room.

"Leave me in my misery."

His daughter rolled her eyes. "I'm not dying, Papa. I'm getting married."

He could feel his heart clench at the word. "Exactly, I am the one who is dying."

She shook her head and sat in the chair next to him, taking his cold hand in hers. "Sometimes, I think you are more dramatic than I am." He bristled at that. "Papa, it's not like you won't ever see me. Louis and I will have a flat in the city, only a carriage ride away. You and Mama will come see me dance, and we will have family dinners every Saturday. Remember? We planned this out," she reminded him. Estelle had a beautiful voice, just like Gustave and Adalie, but she was much more into dance than she was singing. She was rising through the ranks at the Palais Garnier, which many assumed was thanks to the ballet instructor, who also happened to be her soon-to-be mother-in-law, but she was promoted through talent alone.

He glanced down at their joined hands and let out his third sigh. "You will not be mine anymore," he mumbled inaudibly.

She had heard him though and squeezed his hand hard for a moment to get him to look at her. "I am my own," she stated fiercely, and he couldn't help but smile. She was so strong-willed, so ahead of her time. "But I will _always_ be your little girl." A smile bloomed on her face, and the mischievous glint entered her eyes. "I will always be your odd little girl, Papa."

He couldn't help himself. He gathered her into his arms so tightly and desperately hoped he would never have to let go. "I love you, you odd, darling girl."

She held him just as tight. "I love you, too, Papa. So much."

* * *

Eventually, the two had pulled away, and Erik had donned his nude, face-like mask that he had made for public appearances. Estelle frowned, but he shook his head. He would not pull any attention away from his daughter.

The wedding was then set into motion. The guests loved young Adalie as she skipped down the aisle, tossing the red rose petals on the floor. She then ran over to her mother and brother, who were sitting in the front pew of the church.

Erik turned to his daughter in front of the church doors. "You are sure about this?" he asked in a last ditch-attempt to get her to runaway and stay with him and Christine forever.

She grinned at him. "I am positive."

He pouted again, and she giggled before he leaned into place a kiss on her soft cheek. He could feel tears entering his eyes as he pulled the veil down to cover her beautiful face. The wedding procession could be heard, and he held out his elbow to her. "Then, let's get you married, my dear."

He walked her down the aisle, lifted her veil, kissed her cheek again, and glared at Louis as he handed his daughter off to the fop. He felt a small amount of satisfaction as he saw the boy visibly swallow. Good. He should be scared.

Erik strides over to the front pew to sit with the rest of his family as the ceremony continued. Christine was crying, Gustave was playing a melody in his head by tapping his fingers on his leg, and Adalie was playing with the remaining rose petals from her place in his lap.

He watched his daughter kiss her boy, turning from Mademoiselle Destler into Madame Arnault. He followed along with everyone else as they made their way to their carriage. Louis opened the door for her, and she waved to everyone, to him, before getting into the carriage and disappearing from his view.

His heart dropped. He wasn't ready for this. He couldn't have her leave him, but he didn't do anything as the carriage began to ride off. He held onto Adalie a little tighter, and Christine firmly grabbed her bicep.

Suddenly, the window to the carriage opened, and out popped the head of his girl. She had Louis' top hat on her head and was waving frantically. "I love you, Papa!" she yelled out before disappearing back into the carriage.

He couldn't stop the laugh that bubbled out of him even if he wanted to. No matter what, she would always be his little oddity.

* * *

 **Just to clear up confusion (if there is any), at the end of this, Erik is 53, Christine is 38, Estelle is 18, Gustave is 13, and Adalie is 3.**

 **Let me know your thoughts!**

 **-AL.x**


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